


Star Wars Tumblr Prompts

by captainbuckyskywalker (orphan_account)



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Post-RotJ, Twinbonding, family bonding time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 11:01:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13657677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/captainbuckyskywalker
Summary: Various Tumblr prompts, mostly about the Skywalker family.





	1. Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt was: Luke tells his friends about what happened on the Death Star II.

It was an hour past midnight, but the sounds of celebration still showed no sign of dying away. The second Death Star had blown into a million pieces hours ago, but Rebels and Ewoks alike still danced and sang, shouted and cheered. The forests of Endor were alight with sound the like of which had never been heard there before, and for good reason: The Empire was dead; the Rebellion lived.  
And, away from the celebration, standing in meditative silence, was silhouetted one lone figure: the Jedi Knight Luke Skywalker.  
He had been at the celebration; he’d stood with his friends and joined in with the cheering. But he had felt distanced from it, as if he were looking on from a distance instead of celebrating himself; he had too much on his mind. He had kept thinking, about his father and the Emperor and how no one would know that his father had returned, at the very end. He had disliked the idea of continuing to just stand around, feeling so lost while Han and Leia and the others were blissfully happy. He had felt like a fraud.  
So he had come out here. It was much better this way, he realized, but also a little sad. He could remember a time, years ago, maybe eons ago, when he would have given anything for just a little adventure. He had longed for it, dreamed of it; and in those hours following the attack on his uncle’s home, he had found it. He’d lost Ben that day, to be sure…but he had also found Han and Leia and Chewie, escaped from the Death Star with them, blown up TIE fighters with them, joined the Rebellion and done some good. It had been a wonderful time, when he thought he had found himself; but he hadn’t. It had all been a lie. Those short years of bliss had been followed up by one day of horror, in which his entire world had been turned upside down and he’d been thrown brutally into adulthood.  
He had come back from that now, that seemingly endless brink before a great fall; but the cost had been his innocence. From the revelation that Darth Vader was his father, he had been faced with a choice: Fall to anger or rise to forgiveness. He had chosen the latter, but he had only reached the decision to do so through long, sleepless nights, through agonizing debates with himself, through loneliness and pain. And now he was here. He had won, he supposed; but it was a bittersweet victory. He had saved his father, but now his father was dead.  
Absent-mindedly, Luke rubbed at his shoulder, one of the points where the Emperor had focused his barrage of Force lightning. What was he to do now? Who was he supposed to be? Just hours ago he had felt confident in himself, sure…now he was lost, confused. Ben and Yoda were dead. His father was dead; and while they could advise him from beyond the grave, they weren’t actually here. He was alone, the last Jedi. It was surely up to him to build a new Jedi order, to continue to protect peace, now that it had been won…but where would he begin? He wasn’t even sure that he knew what a Jedi was, what a Jedi was supposed to do. If he didn’t know that, how could he do anything?  
“Hey, kid.”  
Luke turned at the familiar voice, ashamed that he hadn’t sensed the approach of his friend. Han was standing behind him, Leia at his side. They looked worried. For a moment, he wanted to grin at them, to give the impression that he hadn’t lost his confidence…but these were his friends. He couldn’t hide anything from them; and, frankly, he was tired of hiding.  
“Hey,” he said, making no attempt to hide the weariness in his voice.  
“You look like hell,” Han remarked with hardly a change in expression.  
At that, a corner of Luke’s mouth twisted up in a wry half smile. “Thanks.”  
“Luke,” Leia said softly, stepping forward to take her brother’s hands in hers. “Luke, something’s wrong. You’re…you’re different, somehow, even from when we spoke before.”  
“Leia, it’s nothing.” Luke pulled away, regarding her sadly. “Nothing you would understand, at least.”  
“Well, Vader’s dead,” Leia said; as usual, she was to the point. “That we know. You killed him.”  
“Well…” Luke rubbed the back of his neck; another pain had sprung up there. “Did you tell Han?”  
“Did I…”  
“Sure thing, kid,” Han said. “I know the man in black’s your father, that’s for certain.”  
Luke sighed. “That must have been rough.”  
“Not as rough as it was for you! He told you himself, didn’t he?”  
“Yes,” Luke whispered. “It was at Bespin.”  
“Gathered that much. But it must’ve been even worse to kill him, then.”  
Han’s voice had softened now, softened with concern. Luke couldn’t bear to keep it from them any longer. He couldn’t hold it in; and they deserved to know. They were his friends.  
“I…didn’t kill him, Han. He…” Luke sighed again. “Look, this is going to be shocking to you. Just…just prepare yourselves, all right?”  
“Luke.” Leia took his right hand, and this time, Luke didn’t pull away. “We’ll believe anything you tell us. There is nothing you could say that we won’t believe.”  
“We’ve been through everything together, kid,” Han added. “The three of us. If…hell, if Vader saved your life up there, we’d believe it!”  
“Vader–” Luke choked at the irony of what Han had just said. “Han, that’s exactly what happened. Darth Vader saved my life.”  
There was no response. Han and Leia only stared at him.  
“I…it’s the truth! I wanted to bring him back. There was good in him, and I felt it, but it didn’t come out until the last minute, when the Emperor was trying to kill me.”  
“Trying to kill you?” Leia’s hand moved from his arm to the part of his neck that was showing, pulling back the collar of his shirt. “Oh, Luke! You…you…how are you alive?”  
“To be honest, I’m still asking the same question,” Luke said, a bit wryly. “I didn’t know the Force could be used in this way until he attacked me; he shot lightning at me, out of his hands. He hadn’t attacked me until then, kept trying to-to turn me. To the dark side, make me into another Vader. See, he realized, like I did, that Vader was getting soft, that Vader cared about me, and that made him weak in the dark side. He thought I could turn, and…and he almost succeeded.”  
Luke looked down at the ground, not wanting to tell them about that particular moment of weakness; Leia, especially. He was ashamed of it. He wanted to forget it. He wanted to believe he had remained stoically strong the whole time, standing up to Vader and the Emperor like the Jedi heir he should have been.  
“It’s all right,” Leia said gently. “You can tell us. We won’t be ashamed of you.”  
“It…it was you, Leia!” The words exploded out of Luke like fire; but when they were out, he felt better. “I resisted, I ignored the Emperor’s words, I refused to kill my father; but then I felt you. I felt your wound; I knew you were hurt. And then…then Vader threatened to turn you, to make you into his apprentice. I couldn’t take it. I attacked him, I lost myself to the dark side; I wanted to kill him. I tried to kill my father for you.”  
The three of them fell silent. It was such a horrible tragedy, a family gone wrong; a family ruined to the point where a son would attack his father to save his sister. When the moment passed, it was Han who spoke.  
“Well, it’s over now, kid. What happened next?”  
Luke wanted to cry. They weren’t judging him; they didn’t hate him; they didn’t think any less of him. And of course they didn’t; he had been foolish to believe they would. They were his friends. He felt stronger, and he took a deep breath.  
“I had Vader at my mercy; I’d cut off his hand, like he cut off mine. That’s what brought it home to me, actually: the parallel. I realized I was becoming him; and more than that, I realized what I’d been trying to do the whole time. I hadn’t been trying to kill Vader, or even the Emperor. I’d wanted to kill the evil inside them, the Darkness. I’d thought I could do it by killing the Emperor, and for a moment by killing my father…but in that moment, I realized the only way to destroy Darkness is to cast it out, to get rid of it. So I did. I threw away my lightsaber, stood up to the Emperor, proclaimed myself a Jedi, like…like my father, I think I said. I don’t remember it much, to be honest.”  
“And that’s when the Emperor attacked you,” Leia said.  
Luke nodded. “He was angry. His entire plan had been riding on my fall, and when that failed, well…I think he knew his Empire had fallen then. He was angry, and he took it out on me. I thought I was going to die; I kept thinking of you, down here. I was sad for you, not me; I knew the Death Star would blow at any minute.”  
“Now, Luke–” Han started, but Luke cut him off.  
“As you can see, I’m not dead. Vader stepped in, at the last minute. I could actually sense his torment. He was torn between the Emperor and me, his loyalties swiveling back and forth…and finally, they centered on me. I felt his sorrow for what he’d done, guilt, grief; but more than that was his anger. He was furious at the Emperor; he realized he’d been tricked and manipulated his entire life. So he lunged for him, lifting him; took the lightning blasts from me and onto himself, and threw the Emperor down a shaft. But he…”  
Luke hesitated. This part would be difficult.  
“The Force lightning was too much for him. I think his suit made him vulnerable to it. I barely got him out of the throne room before he collapsed. He made me take his mask off…he wanted to see me, without the mask…” Luke’s voice became soft, yet somehow, the emotion in it grew as he looked at Leia. “His last words…his last words were for me to tell you that I was right. That I knew he could be saved, and he was.”  
Leia pulled away. “Luke, I don’t-”  
“He was sorry,” Luke insisted. “Sorry for what he did to you. That’s what I sensed from him. You don’t have to forgive him. But you should know that.”  
Again, a silence fell on them; and yet again, it was Han who broke it.  
“But, kid, there’s one thing I don’t understand. Why save Vader? Why not kill him?”  
“Well, I felt there was good in him,” Luke explained. “I felt a tiny sliver of light…and I cared about him. I realized I loved him, and wanted to save him, because he’d been both villain and victim. He wasn’t all dark, and I knew he had a chance. But also…also, when he told me I was his son, I knew I had potential for darkness, just as he had potential for light. If he could fall, I could fall…but if he could rise, then so could I. Just as I was saving him, I was also saving myself.”  
A smile broke across Han’s face. “Then I’m glad you did. If you know he loved you, then that’s good enough for me. Too bad you can’t see him, though.”  
“Oh, I can,” Luke said; and at his words, Leia turned back.  
“What? What did you say?”  
“There’s a way,” Luke said slowly, “to see Jedi who have died, become one with the Force. They can come back as spirits; and I saw them, just a few minutes ago. My father was with them.” He felt that something else needed to be said, so he went on. “I saw Ben in that way for years; and if I didn’t see him, I heard him. He told me to use the Force before I destroyed the first Death Star. He told me to go to Dagobah last year; and he told me about my father.”  
He didn’t mention that Ben had also told him to kill his father. That was something that could be mentioned later, he reasoned; there had been enough darkness tonight.  
“So you weren’t hallucinating!” Han exclaimed. “When I saved your ass on Hoth, you-you were talking about the old man, you kept saying something about Dagobah….you actually saw him!”  
“I hardly remember any of that,” Luke said, “but I vaguely recall seeing him. That was the first time he actually appeared to me, in any form.”  
Silence fell again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable this time. The three of them simply were, standing together in a sort of semi circle.  
“And you…you say your father was there?” Leia asked, almost timidly.  
Luke smiled. “He was. He appeared to me.”  
“Our father was there,” Leia whispered. “I think…I don’t think I can forgive him yet, but maybe-maybe someday.”  
“Someday’s all right,” Luke said. “Don’t worry, Leia. Take as long as you want.”  
Han slipped an arm around Luke’s shoulders, and another around Leia’s. “Well, come on! Lando’s been looking for you, kid.”  
Luke’s smile widened. “Then let’s not keep him waiting.”  
Together, the three old friends walked back to the celebration; and behind them, smiling, a proud expression on his face, rose the ghost of Anakin Skywalker.


	2. The Secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Leia tells Luke she's pregnant.

“Leia!”  
The door to Leia’s apartment opened, and a young man garbed in black swept inside. The young Senator turned at the sound of his voice; and, a bright smile lighting up her face, swept him into her arms in a warm embrace.  
“Luke.” She pulled back, looking him in the face. It had been only a few months since the Rebellion’s victory on Endor, but Luke already looked older; in a good way. He carried himself tall, with self-assured confidence, and there was a new wisdom in his blue eyes. But when he smiled, it wasn’t hard to remember the idealistic farmboy who’d turned her world upside down a little over four years ago.  
“I haven’t seen you in weeks,” the young Jedi Knight said, leading her to the couch. “How have you been? How’s Han?”  
Slowly, carefully, Leia sat on the couch, and Luke followed suit.  
“We’ve been just fine,” Leia said. “Mothma and I’ve discussed the process of rebuilding the Republic; it’s slow, but coming along. And Han…wait until you hear what Han’s been up to. You won’t believe it. He’s mentoring pilots; Han Solo’s become a teacher!”  
Luke leaned forward excitedly. “Really?”  
“Yes, really! I told him you wouldn’t believe it.”  
“Oh, I believe it,” Luke said. “I always knew he had a soft heart. It was him who didn’t believe it.”  
The twins shared a laugh. A moment later, however, they fell silent; and Leia focused on Luke, who had closed his eyes temporarily. As if realizing she was watching him, Luke opened his eyes hastily.  
“What?” Leia wanted to know. “What do you sense?”  
“I sense…” Luke closed his eyes again, just briefly. “Something. I sense something. But I don’t…”  
Leia realized, suddenly, what—or who—it was that he sensed, and that she had to tell him before he guessed the truth. “Luke, something—something wonderful’s happened.”  
Luke took her hand in his. “Yes? What is it?”  
“I…” Leia took a deep breath, and when she exhaled, an involuntary smile flitted across her face. “You’re going to be an uncle.”  
“I…” Luke’s eyes widened, and then he laughed, the sound seeming to explode out of him. “No way! That’s not possible! I mean, well, of course it’s possible, it…” He trailed off, shaking his head, and then his hands slid up to grasp Leia by the shoulders. “This is wonderful!”  
“I found out several nights ago,” Leia said. “You’re the first to know.”  
“You mean Han isn’t the first to know?”  
“Oh…well, I think he knows, in a way…” Leia blushed. “After what we did about a week ago.”  
“Oh.” Luke blushed with her; and then he gasped. “That’s what I felt, Leia! I felt your…your child.”  
Leia nodded, too happy to speak.  
“Do it with me, Leia,” Luke said suddenly. “Reach out. See if you can feel it.”  
Leia turned away instantly. “Oh, no. I can’t do that.”  
“You can!” Luke insisted. “I know you can.”  
“I can’t! Luke, ever since I learned about…about…Vader, I’ve been so afraid. I’m not gentle or good like you, not deep down. I’m angry, I have a short temper; what if I do something wrong? What if I—”  
“Touch the dark side? Oh, Leia, you won’t do that. You know it’s wrong, don’t you? Besides, we’re reaching out to a baby. That’s just about the most innocent activity there is!” Luke looked deep into her eyes. “I’ll help you.”  
“Oh…oh, all right.” Leia inhaled shakily. “Teach me.”  
“Reach out…” Luke noticed Leia starting to raise her hand, and swatted it playfully. “No, not like that! With your mind. Like you did on the Falcon, when I called to you.”  
“Reach…oh, I can’t do that. I don’t even know how!”  
“It’s there, Leia. That power is there, inside you. You just have to trust it.”  
Leia was still unsure, but she did as he asked. Now that Luke mentioned it, there was something inside her, a hidden strength, calling to her. It was there, just out of reach; she still couldn’t do it. A thin sheen of sweat appeared on her forehead; oh, Force, she was so frustrated!  
Then a presence, a voice, called inside her mind. Leia.  
“Luke,” she said aloud; and suddenly she could do it. She reached out, touched the power, enveloped it, reached past it. She felt the plants outside her window, the neighboring Senators, the children playing in the streets. She felt Luke, a gentle presence beside her, calm, steady; and at the same time, she knew that he felt her, and they connected…somehow.  
And she felt a small presence—small, but powerful—in the room as well. Inside her. A child, already with cells and nerves and the beginnings of organs.  
Her child.  
Leia’s eyes flew open, and she stared at her brother in gratitude. “Luke! Oh, Luke, thank you. I’ve never—never felt anything so…”  
“Big?” Luke suggested.  
“Big and…” Leia smiled. “Filling.” She spread her arms wide. “It’s like I’ve been an empty glass of water for years, and just now I’m being filled with clear water. I never knew you could feel like that!”  
Luke returned the smile. “Neither did I, when Ben first showed me.” He gasped. “Ben! That’s it! If this baby is a boy, you should name him Ben!”  
Leia’s brow furrowed. “Are you so sure it’s a boy?”  
A mischievous smile played at the corner of Luke’s lips. “Maybe.” An excited light filled his eager blue eyes. “But, Leia, don’t you see? This baby will inherit the Force; I could even train him, if you wanted me to. Not that you have to make any decisions this early,” he added hastily. “But don’t you see the parallel? He would be the first Force-sensitive Skywalker born after the Empire’s fall. He would be the galaxy’s new hope.”  
Leia locked eyes with Luke and stared at him for a long time.  
“Luke,” she said. “I might give birth to all the Jedi I want. But you will always be the galaxy’s greatest hope.”


	3. First Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following the escape from the Death Star, the reality of Luke’s situation crashes down on him. But things change when he realizes that Leia is going through pain of her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Luke and Leia bond over shared trauma.

First Night

Following the escape from the Death Star, the reality of Luke’s situation crashes down on him. But things change when he realizes that Leia is going through pain of her own.  
_________________________________________________________________________________________

The Falcon had gone quiet, as well as the infinite space surrounding it; and as far as he knew, it would be hours yet before they reached Yavin. That left time; too much time. Too much time to think.  
Luke sighed. It would have been better if he was busy, his mind occupied by something else, as it had been minutes ago during the battle with the TIE Fighters; a battle that had been exhilarating, dangerous, wonderful…but ultimately, too short. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, now that everything was quiet, he sat wearily, trying not to think.  
Yet he couldn’t help but think. This was exactly the seat where Ben Kenobi had sat with him, just hours ago. It was impossible, yet true. Someone had again been taken from him, and again, he was alone. There was nothing left for him.  
It was unfair, he knew. He was mourning Ben even more than he’d mourned his aunt and uncle, and he’d hardly known the man. Hardly known him…but really, he felt as though he’d known Ben–Obi-Wan, he used to be–for his entire life. When Ben had spoken of the old ways of the Jedi, Luke had felt something stir inside him; a calling, a feeling, something like that. A connection to something greater than himself…a connection to his father.  
Yes, that was it. When Ben spoke about the Force, something of Luke’s father seemed to be speaking through him. Luke had felt as if he could know his father now, with Ben as his mentor, dead though his father might be. He had imagined that Ben and his father had been the best of friends, almost like brothers, having all sorts of adventures; and that Ben could tell him about them. But now both of them were dead.  
And he was alone.  
Luke lifted his head, searching for something, anything, to distract him from this melancholy train of thought…and then his eyes fell on the small white form, sitting hunched in the corner of the room. Leia. Luke’s heart lifted at the mere sight of her; but then, immediately, he felt overwhelming guilt as he remembered why she was sitting there. While he’d been self-involved, thinking about Ben and his father and how he would never see them again, Leia had lost more than just people. She’d lost everything. Not just family, not just friends…but a planet. Her home. And while Luke never wanted to return to Tatooine, he always could, years in the future, maybe. To remember his aunt and uncle, to remember Ben. Leia never could.  
Moved by some unconscious desire, Luke rose unsteadily to his feet and approached Leia, timidly, cautiously. He squatted down near her, looked at her; but she didn’t seem to hear him, even then.  
Gently, Luke touched her arm.  
Leia’s head snapped up, a wild light in her eyes…and then, when she realized who was beside her, it faded, replaced almost instantly by guilt.  
“Oh, Luke,” she said. “I’m sorry. I…”  
“Don’t be,” Luke said, feeling a need to comfort her, to do something. “You have every reason to–to snap at me. Look what you’ve gone through.”  
“Look at what you’ve gone through,” Leia countered sharply. “I’m not the only one who’s lost everything. You lost Ben, right in front of your eyes. To…to Vader. Darth Vader.” She gave a bitter laugh, and her tone grew angry. “He’s taken people from us. Both of us. Ben from you, Alderaan from me; but Ben’s worth more than Alderaan. He’s worth more than my parents. He…”  
She trailed off, seeming unsure at where she was going.  
Some part of Luke wanted to leave. He felt that he had provoked Leia in some way, despite trying his best not to. But another part of him felt, somehow, that he had to find a way to comfort Leia. He didn’t want to leave, anyway. He didn’t want to return to his thoughts.  
He gave Leia a small smile. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said gently. “I know what this is like. I…” He swallowed, found the courage to go on, and spoke again. “I didn’t just lose Ben. I also lost my aunt and uncle. It’s not a big deal,” he added hastily, as Leia opened her mouth. “I’ve…gotten over it. Maybe. But that’s the point, see. Their deaths don’t hurt as much anymore, and…oh, Force. I don’t even know what I’m saying.”  
“No, Luke,” Leia said, and this time it was she who smiled at him. “Things will get better, won’t they? That’s what you’re saying.”  
Luke nodded. “I know, it sounds stupid. Everyone says that. They’re empty words.”  
“Maybe in theory,” Leia said, “but not when they come from the heart.”  
Luke raised his head, looking into Leia’s warm brown eyes. He’d felt embarrassed before, shy, whenever she spoke to or even looked at him; but he didn’t feel that way now. Now, Leia didn’t feel so unreachable, cold, unattainable…she felt like a friend.  
“Thanks,” he said. “That helps.”  
“No, thank you.” Leia smiled again, and Luke smiled in return, feeling almost giddy. He determined to do whatever he had to to keep her smiling. He loved her more when she smiled; and he guessed she felt the same about him.  
“Hey! I thought you said you couldn’t wait another minute for us to come out of hyperspace, Your Worship! What’s going on back there?”  
The smile disappeared from Leia’s face, replaced by a scowl.  
“That scoundrel,” she muttered. “Can’t stand to have anyone talking about anything that’s not himself.”  
“I don’t think he’s as bad as he seems,” Luke said quietly. “He’s soft if you look hard enough. You’ll see.”  
“I don’t think so,” Leia said, shaking her head.  
“Well, maybe. But we should go. I’m worried he might feel left out, if he knows we’ve been talking; or worse, he might think we were…I don’t know, kissing back here or something.”  
“Captain Solo can think what he wants,” Leia said crisply. Luke wondered if she was going to be angry again, but then she met his eyes, and her expression seemed to contain a world of warmth. “I can’t thank you enough. Somehow, I feel like my life’s worth living again.”  
Luke couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything but stare back. He had never before made anyone feel good, and it gave him a feeling he found he liked. He realized that, through comforting Leia, he had inadvertently comforted himself.  
“Me too,” he said, a corner of his mouth turning up in a smile. “Let’s go see Han.”


	4. Acceptance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke begins to come to terms with the knowledge that Vader is his father; set at the end of ESB.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Luke on the Falcon, end of ESB.

Wind whistled around Luke as he fell, tumbling down the long shaft, away from the black figure on the gantry, away from Vader, away from his…no. No, it wasn’t true. He felt weightless, worthless; as if he didn’t matter. Did he? Did he indeed matter, at all, in this long struggle?  
You don’t know your importance…  
He wasn’t falling anymore, not straight, anyway; he could feel something else sucking him down. A tube, a shaft, he didn’t care. All he wanted was to get away. But where was “away?” Where was this thing taking him? Away from Vader, his–no. He didn’t care.  
Where was he going?  
 _I guess I'm going nowhere._  
He had landed, come to a stop. It was a shaft of some kind; his hand, the one, clutched durasteel. He looked up, trying to guess where he was…but what was the point? No. He wasn’t looking at his surroundings, he was seeing if Vader had come after him. And he hadn’t. He was alone. But alone was better than…than…the alternative.  
Then he was moving again, falling, but this time the air was different; cold, bitterly cold, and free. Too free to be part of Cloud City–  
He realized what had happened, came out of his stupor just enough to seize the thing below him, an antenna, weather vane, something. He looked down…no. No, that was a bad idea, this was worse than standing on the gantry. There was nothing but the planet; stray objects fell far, and from what he could see, never landed. To let go would be to fall into nothing, to become nothing. Did he want that? Maybe. Being nothing was better than being…than being the son of…but that wasn’t true. And if it wasn’t true, then he didn’t want to die.  
“Ben,” he called, helplessly; but he knew the truth. Obi-Wan had said that if he faced Vader, no one could help him. That was the truth…no! It couldn’t be true.  
He looked up; the hatch was still open. He could still get to it, still pull himself up. The wind bit at him, but he stood, trembled as he balanced himself on the thin pole, and reached up, with his one hand, touched the hatch; the hatch closed shut. With it went the last of his hope.  
Luke fell, arms weak from endless parries and swings and falls, almost became nothing; but then he was afraid again, and his legs stopped the fall, clutching the antenna, and he used his one arm to help. Afraid. That was the only thing that stopped him from falling; he was afraid to die.  
 _I'm not afraid!_  
 _You will be._  
“Ben,” he called again, hopeless. Ben wouldn’t come; he couldn’t depend on him. It was colder; cold, like Hoth, but there was no Han. Han wouldn’t come; Han was gone. How did he know that? He didn’t. Han was gone…Chewbacca was gone, Leia was gone. Leia…  
The last name, Leia, he had spoken unwittingly; but some idea sparked at the back of his mind. Leia. She could hear him…no! No, she couldn’t. That was foolish, he knew; but he had to try. She was all he had left. She was his only hope.  
“Leia, hear me,” he called, his voice hoarse, rough, nearly a whisper. His palm was sweaty, muscles strained beyond imagination; he knew he was slipping. He could feel something coming, a darkness, something cold. He was more desperate. “Hear me! Leia!”  
Silence. The cold, dark presence drew nearer; Luke pulled his own away from it. He sensed dark intent, malice, evil…desperation. His eyes closed; something, someone, spoke his name, but it was more a feeling than anything. The darkness came closer; he slipped; desperate, just like the dark presence, he pulled himself up, banged his stump of a hand on the antenna; but he didn’t have the strength to cry out. Not anymore.  
The darkness was close, ever closer; but suddenly it split off, became two presences; one light, one dark, and the light was closer.  
 _You're my only hope._  
Leia? Hardly able to believe it, Luke opened his eyes; the Falcon, impossibly, was approaching. Han had pulled through; he had done it. But Han was gone. But Vader was…no, neither of those were true.  
It was almost like a dream; a nightmare, a wonderful dream, amidst these lethally beautiful clouds. He almost slipped, almost fell to nothing, but held on. For Leia, he reminded himself. With a groan, he forced himself back to consciousness.  
The Falcon had arrived; he heard its engine stall. The top hatch opened, but it wasn’t Han who’d come for him; it was a strange man, more handsome, less sure of himself. Luke hesitated. What if it was a trap? But Leia was here, he sensed her; and if it was a trap, he didn’t care. He was too tired, too exhausted; he felt he might slip off anyway. It was a leap of faith, just as before, just as when he’d destroyed the Death Star; but it didn’t feel triumphant, to let go and fall. It only felt relieving.  
The strange man caught him, seized his jacket firmly; Luke barely felt it. It was a dream again, but he didn’t know which kind, good or bad. He wanted to be strong, to stand on his own; but he couldn’t do that. Somehow, it was impossible.  
That’s impossible!  
He was on the Falcon now, feet on the ground, leaning heavily on the man. He wanted to collapse, fall as he had before; he didn’t want to do anything. The stranger was a strong presence, but not comforting; not comforting, as Leia had been after Ben’s death, as Han had been in the shelter on Hoth. Han. Where was Han?  
 _Leia._  
He didn’t know if he spoke her name; he only knew that now he was clinging to her, as if to a raft in a storm. He liked the man, but was glad to be free of him; he had Leia. Slowly, she walked him toward the sickbay.  
“Leia,” he rasped, struggling to speak; but he didn’t know what he wanted to say. “Leia, I…”  
“Shh.” She laid him down, on the bunk, where he and she and Han had all sat after Ord Mantell. Han. Things weren’t all right; the three of them weren’t together. But he had to be here somewhere. “Just lie down.”  
He sensed anger from her, intense anger, but couldn’t pinpoint its cause. He knew how to fix that; they both needed Han.  
“Han,” he whispered, focusing on her as she attached a tube to his arm; funny, she hadn’t asked about it. “Need to see…Han.”  
Now Leia returned his gaze, and the anger was muted; now there was only sadness. “I’m…I’m sorry, Luke. Han’s gone.”  
“Gone?” Luke struggled to understand; did she mean dead? He began to panic. “What–what do you mean? He was alive, I know–I felt–”  
“No,” Leia said, wiping his forehead with a wet cloth. “Not dead. He was captured by Boba Fett. Taken to Jabba the Hutt.”  
Relief came, then confusion. “Boba Fett? Who’s…”  
“The bounty hunter.” Leia was so calm. How could she be calm? Didn’t she know?  
“Oh.” Luke fell silent as Leia tended to him; this wasn’t right, they weren’t all here. “Poor Han.”  
He felt more sadness from Leia, infinite sadness, but then the ship rocked, shook; he was slammed into the wall beside the bunk. The dark presence…no, it was here! It couldn’t be here, it had been gone!  
He barely felt Leia shift position, hardly registered the parting kiss she gave him. It was in the same place as the kiss she’d given him a month ago, but everything was different; no Han to be jealous, no smug satisfaction, and he was alone now. Always alone, except for the presence…  
No. He pushed it away, shut it out.  
 _Son._  
He hadn’t expected it; the voice came, deep, rich with desire; instantly he was thrown back years, to his childhood, looking up at the stars and wanting a father.  
“Father.”  
The moment was gone, and revulsion filled him. It wasn’t the truth, it wasn’t true, wasn’t true…but he had accepted it. He had betrayed his father, Anakin. Poor Anakin; betrayed by his own son in such a way. Betrayed for Vader. Anakin, Vader, Anakin…Luke gripped the sides of the bunk. He felt sick.  
 _Son. Come with me._  
Luke ignored the voice, shoved it away; strangely, he found that he could do so. He had betrayed his father, just as Vader had betrayed his father; betrayed and killed him.  
“Ben,” he whispered into the darkness. Betrayal. “Why didn’t you tell me?”  
The Falcon was trying to enter hyperspace; Luke felt it, but it wasn’t working. The Empire must have done something, disabled it. Vader was coming; Father was coming. He felt that, too. He would enter the Falcon, take Luke…take him to Cloud City, to the Emperor, to the dark side. He couldn’t refuse; how could he? It would honor his father. He’d always wanted to honor his father. Why else had he gone to Yoda?  
 _Mostly because of my father, I guess._  
No, not just because of Anakin; because of Leia, Han. Leia. Leia. Lurching, stumbling to his feet, Luke staggered into the cockpit of the Falcon, ignored the shocked expressions on Leia’s face, on the strange man’s face. He didn’t care; he had to warn them. But what could he say? He couldn’t tell them the truth. They would hate him. But if he was the son of such a man, who had tortured Leia, ruined her, he deserved to be hated.  
“Vader,” he whispered. The stranger edged around him, touched him carefully; as if to avoid startling him. Of course. He was afraid of Luke now. They were all afraid. Could they know? They didn’t know, of course not. But then…  
Come with me. The voice echoed again; this time, it was purely unselfish. A man, longing for his son, just as he, Luke, longed for his father. He’d thought he’d found a father, in Ben. But fathers didn’t lie to their children, Vader had proven that. Did that make him right? Did that make Vader right, and Ben wrong?  
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Luke breathed, barely audible; Leia could not hear him. If she did, she would ask questions.  
He waited in silence, alone despite the people and droids and Chewbacca around him. He would always be alone now; even if they got Han back, even if he killed Vader…but he couldn’t kill him, not now. He had no hand, no lightsaber, no Han, no Rebellion, no X-Wing; and he was Vader’s son. A son could not refuse his father. He had few moments left; only seconds of freedom. He stared at Leia, drinking in the sight of her tiny, impossibly strong frame; a tear escaped him. No. He couldn’t cry now…he wasn’t a child, not anymore.  
I _am your father._  
Despondent as he was, Luke was taken by utter surprise when the Falcon rocketed forward, shunted into space. The dark presence vanished. Did that mean he was free? No. No, he would never be free. There was no chance of that anymore.  

 

There were hands on his shoulders, arms guiding him out of the cockpit, back to his bunk. He reached to steady himself, found he couldn’t; he had used his right arm. It was Leia, bringing him back. Luke’s shoulders slumped in relief; he turned to look at her, and was shocked; it wasn’t Leia. It was the stranger. Luke raised his shoulders again, determined to look at least a little stronger.   
“Relax,” the man said, pushing him down, gently, on the bunk. “Relax, I’m not your enemy.”  
The man was too good at reading body language; Luke felt that he’d insulted him, in some way. “I never said you were,” he said, his voice a hoarse whisper.   
The man put the tube back on Luke’s stump of a hand. “I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t trust me,” he said, and Luke could feel guilt from him. “I betrayed Han. I’m the reason Han’s gone.”  
Luke struggled with that. He knew he wouldn’t have struggled before, but he was older now, wiser…ruined. Yes, ruined, not wiser. This man had betrayed Han; he had taken Han from them…but then, he had helped them escape, gone up to catch him. He'd made up for it.   
“But you’re sorry,” Luke said; he barely had the energy to speak. “That’s what counts.”  
The man smiled at him, teeth brilliantly white; but there was sorrow behind the smile. “Well, that’s certainly good of you. I can see why Han liked you.” He ran the cloth over Luke’s forehead, as Leia had done before. “I’m Lando Calrissian, if you wanted to know.”  
“Lando.” Luke rolled the name around, tested it, decided it belonged to a friend, if a shaky one. “I’m Luke Skywalker.”  
The surname caught on his tongue, choked in his throat; but Lando didn’t seem to notice. “I know.” There was a pause. “Look, I don’t know what you went through, but you look like hell, kid.”  
Kid. It hurt, to hear that; Luke remembered hearing “kid” during the long night on Hoth, the patronizing, endearing name piercing the fog of his delirium with Han. He shivered.   
There was a motion in the door, a shimmer of white. Leia. Luke relaxed; she still remained his only hope. He had been hers, once, but where had he gone? He’d gone to rescue her, and he’d failed.   
_Some rescue!_  
Leia and Lando were talking, saying something; it was lost on Luke. He barely felt a blanket being spread over him; why should he? It wouldn’t do anything. He might be in shock, but he didn’t care. The presence was gone, had vanished, but he almost could have felt it there, with him. He didn’t want it to be with him, wanted to shove it away, to kill it…but it was him, it was part of him. He was part of Vader. That’s what the vision had been trying to tell him; Vader would always be part of him. He could never get rid of him. Darkness swirled around him, whispering to him, drawing him closer; it was cold, like the Presence he'd felt before. No, no. It wasn't true. It was impossible.    
Luke opened his eyes; Leia and Lando were gone. He was alone, alone again. That was expected; he’d always be alone. The image of Vader came to mind again, reaching out a hand; some part of Luke wished he’d taken it. It would have been easier. He wouldn’t be having these doubts; he would be Dark either way. He used to be so optimistic, earnest. What had happened to him? He would grin when older men, women in the Rebellion told him he looked like his father, bashfully thank them as Han ruffled his hair and Leia laughed. His father. He would rather kill himself than look like his father….but that would do nothing. Even in death, he would never escape Vader.

 _There is no escape. Don't make me destroy you._  
Leia was back; beside her, a rumbling noise that could only mean Chewie. They were helping him up; he was on the floor; what was he doing there? There was fur around him, picking him up and placing him back on the bunk.   
“We’re not going anywhere, Luke,” Leia said, gently. He didn’t say anything; that was a lie. They had all gone and left him; he could hardly hear her; he was alone. There seemed to be a voice in his head, giving orders to pilots, impetuously declaring the absence of fear, earnestly promising to save Han and Leia. Who was that person? Where had he gone? He’d died, somewhere in Cloud City, and Luke would never find him again.   
Darth Vader betrayed and murdered your father.   
Yes, maybe Ben was right. Maybe there was a metaphorical death involved, not literal. Just like he’d died in Cloud City, Anakin had died…well, wherever Darth Vader had risen. They were both dead. But what did that make him? And what did that make Vader? Luke didn’t know. But it was something to think about.   
There was a droid beside him, a 2-1B unit, working on his hand. His hand! Luke came fully awake, and found that he had strength again, energy. He must be out of shock, and he had a hand. But how? How could he…that’s right. A mechanical hand; just like Vader. Just like his father. He was one step closer to becoming his father.   
But why did he have to become him? Why did the name Skywalker mean anything at all? This was a new thought. He’d spent years longing to become a Jedi, yearning after his dead father…but his life had changed, so maybe his views had to change, too. If he accepted that he had to obey his father, he must turn to the dark side; but if he accepted that he could be his own man, that he didn’t have to follow Vader…then he was free to choose.   
Hope returned, if only in a small measure; Luke smiled at the droid. That felt good, to smile, though there was a shadow behind it that he hadn’t noticed before. No matter. That didn’t matter. It was understandable that he would be older now, different. He couldn’t depend on Han. It was up to him to find Han; him and Leia.   
Leia.   
She was standing alone, looking out into space. Luke’s heart gave a small tug; he couldn’t let her stand there alone. Slowly, carefully placing weight on his feet, he got up and went to her. She smiled at him, a bright smile that hearkened back to the days just after the destruction of the Death Star. Those days had been so beautiful, fun, glorious. Full of victory. They were far away now, farther than Luke had ever imagined…but they had happened, and that meant they could happen again.   
He didn’t know what to think of Vader now; but he was his own man, free to make his own choice, so he had time. He would think about it. If he could choose, Vader had no hold over him.   
Luke slipped an arm around Leia; it was the arm that held his mechanical hand. For a moment, fear threatened to overwhelm him, but he looked at his left arm. That one was free, untouched, as was the rest of him. The new hand was only a blemish, just a dark spot. It didn’t mean all of him was dark.   
Leia looked up at him briefly, and he smiled at her, trying to reassure her. She seemed reassured; and at that, so was he. They were each other’s reassurance. Alone, he had to face Vader; but together, they would take down the Empire; together, they would rescue Han. Toegther, in the moment, they looked out at the stars.   
The small fire in Luke’s heart that had been hope grew and blossomed to a supernova; and in that moment, Luke knew he had become his own man.


	5. Chapter 5

  
There was nothing left of the house.   
Even after the Stormtroopers had killed Luke’s aunt and uncle and burned down most of his childhood home, there had still been charred remains, one blackened wall, a kitchen sink, half of a vaporator. Now, eight years after the fact, there was nothing. It had all been blown away by the harsh Tatooine storms.   
Luke stared for a moment, caught up in the past. He felt the swell of emotions in his throat, but he was not ashamed of them; he had learned that suppressing emotions only did you harm. All the same, he couldn’t help wishing, just for a _moment_ , one selfish, bitter moment, that he had never left Tatooine. Life had been so simple then; just one day after another of working, daydreaming about the future, and skiving off to see his friends. There had been a short time, when he had thought he was happy, after the destruction of the Death Star…a time that had been ruined when his world was plunged into darkness, and he had been forced to abandon his innocence and, for a time, his optimism. He had spent every waking moment in the future, never in the present moment, wondering what he might have instead of being satisfied…but it had been foolish. Yoda had been utterly right there, despite being wrong in many other areas. Only when Luke stopped looking to the future had he accomplished anything.   
“Oh, Uncle Owen,” he whispered, staring at the spot where he remembered their bones had been; bones that had long since turned to dust and blown away. “Aunt Beru. I never listened to you, and all you wanted was to protect me. I’m sorry.”  
Luke bowed his head, letting the wind blow his sandy hair and dark cloak; not thinking, not speaking, simply being. He felt the Force gather around him, so close it might have been a caress; as if it were trying to bring his long-dead aunt and uncle back to him…that, and something else.   
Luke frowned, focusing harder on the Force. There had been times like these in the six years since his departure from Tatooine, when he thought he felt the presence of his aunt and uncle, encouraging him, sometimes scolding him; although that would mostly have been his uncle, he thought with a smile. But now, there was a third presence that had joined his dead relatives; something caring, something gentle…something _familiar_ …but he didn’t know what it was.   
There was a tickle behind him, a whisper that was more potent than the other ghosts, and Luke focused his entire being on it. Yes, it was stronger, and coming from behind him. He had felt that presence before, but he hadn’t felt it since–  
“Father!” Luke’s head jerked up, his eyes snapped open, and he spun round. There before him was the shimmering presence of a Force ghost: tall, slender, with a kind face framed by dark blond locks, and the slightest hint of a beard; garbed not in black, but in brown robes.   
Anakin Skywalker smiled at the young Jedi. “Son.”  
Father and son stared at one another for several long moments, each drinking in the other’s appearance. The wind blew around them, tousling Luke’s hair and whipping his clothes. Naturally, it did nothing to Anakin.   
“It’s been so long,” Luke whispered. “I haven’t seen you since the birth of my nephew.”  
“It has been… _difficult_ for me to appear to you,” Anakin admitted. Luke noted that even now, he still spoke in the same stilted pattern from his days as Darth Vader. He wondered if his father had always spoken like that, even as a child. “But you have felt my eyes on you, haven’t you? You have never been alone.”  
“Yes, I know. I’m not accusing you, I just…” Luke sighed. “Life gets lonely, sometimes, and I can’t help but feel that it would be less lonely if you were here.”  
“I know…Luke.” Belatedly, Luke realized it was the first time his father had spoken his name without the distortion of the vocoder. “There is not a day that goes by that I don’t regret leaving you. I did not always feel this way; I felt that I would be a curse to the galaxy if I lived…but I feel so cheated, now, that I will never be able to touch both my children with my own flesh.”  
“It’s all right, Father,” Luke said quietly. “It won’t be like this forever. We’ll be with you someday.”   
Anakin laughed softly, a sound that was like music to Luke’s ears. “Ah, my son. Even in the depths of loneliness, you never fail to think on the bright side of things.”  
“Nobody ever thinks ‘on the bright side,’ as you say,” Luke said, the hint of a smile lurking behind his lips. “So why shouldn’t I?”  
Another silence fell between father and son, but it was a comfortable one. Luke found himself thinking of the words he had spoken just minutes before, of seeing Anakin in person one day, and a thought came to his mind.   
“Father,” he said. “What’s it like?”  
Anakin frowned. “What is what like?”  
“You know what I mean. Eternity, the netherworld of the Force, ghosthood.”  
“’Ghosthood?’” Anakin shook his head ruefully. “You are ridiculous, son. I doubt that is a word that even exists.”  
“Now it does,” Luke said unashamedly.   
“As I said. Ridiculous.” Anakin laughed. “How to describe my life now? I’ve always struggled with words, Luke…I was never as open as you are. But I suppose the netherworld is…peaceful. Yes, there it is. Peaceful. Oh, we have fun there, if you can call it that; Obi-Wan and I share stories of our days as Jedi, my mother is there…your aunt and uncle tell me many amusing tales about you,” he added mischievously.   
“Oh, please, Father.” Luke rolled his eyes. “Spare me the details.”  
“Well, I could talk about the time you accepted a dare to steal–”  
“Father, no!” Luke could already feel heat rising in his face.   
A laugh exploded from Anakin’s chest, louder than those Luke had heard thus far. “All right, all right. I can see that’s enough. But I have to tease you, don’t I? I am your father.”  
Luke smiled sheepishly at his words, remembering where he had first heard them.  
“Now, who did I forget? Ah, yes. Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan’s master, and very nearly mine. I think you would like him; he has a dry, witty sense of humor. He often tells Obi-Wan that he was right about me being the chosen one, a fact that positively galls my old friend. There are all the old masters; Yoda I believe you know, but others who you have never heard of. Mace Windu, Luminara Unduli…ah. Of course you would love Ahsoka, my padawan; she’s got your daring and Leia’s spirit. And then…then…”  
Anakin trailed off, looking lost in thought; a faraway look came into his eyes, as if lost in a time long gone. Luke wondered what it was, but he had a feeling that his father would explain if given time. He had learned patience; he could wait.  
At last he was rewarded, as Anakin turned to him with an eager, searching, almost _desperate_ look in his eyes. “Luke…I want you to tell me something. Do you remember anything, anything at all, of your mother?”  
The words were so near to what Luke himself had asked Leia, four years ago now, that Luke was temporarily stunned into silence. Then, at last, he found his voice, wondering if he would finally learn who had given birth to him.   
“No,” he said, feeling transported into the past, into a dark night on a forest moon. “I don’t remember anything about my mother. I never knew her.”  
“I see her,” Anakin said, “I see her, in the netherworld. She cannot manifest herself as a ghost–as I can–but she is almost always with me. In fact…in fact, Luke, she is here right now.”  
Luke gasped, eyes opening wide in astonishment, as he realized the identity of the third presence. “I felt her, Father. I felt her! But…” He sighed, looking away. “Would you mind telling me who she is? I’ve talked to everyone I can find, but no one knew anything.”  
“Her name was…” Anakin shook his head. “I cannot do it, Luke. I can talk to her–I do so every day–but to speak of _her,_ to _you,_ her who I–” He broke away, almost painfully. “I cannot do it.”  
“Yes, you can, Father,” Luke insisted, reaching forward to touch Anakin, to reassure him; a touch that ultimately amounted to nothing, as his hand brushed through air. “No matter what happened, no matter what you did…that time is past. What matters is now. You’re my father, and I know you love me, and I certainly know you’re sorry. I won’t judge you.”  
A breath of wind passed around them, a slight breeze, like a whisper; as if in agreement with Luke’s words.   
Anakin fell silent, his attention not on Luke but on something else, listening; and Luke knew that his father was speaking to his mother. His father, speaking to his mother! That was a dream he’d once thought he would never get to witness.  
At last, with a heavy sigh, Anakin turned back to Luke, his form shimmering slightly. “All right. Your mother agrees with you; the two of you are more alike than I thought.”  
Luke smiled at that, but it was another attempt to distract him from the subject at hand. “So…?”  
“You are indomitable, my son.” Anakin closed his eyes, clenching his fists slightly; and then he relaxed, and he spoke. “Your mother’s name was Padmé Amidala.”  
“Padmé Ami–” Luke broke off as, suddenly, he realized the identity of his mother. Padmé Amidala? The idealistic young queen, the figurehead who Leia spoke of so often with pride, who had given her life for a noble cause, who had inspired the founders of the Rebellion to do something about the Empire…was his _mother?_  
He gaped at Anakin. “ _She_ was my mother?”  
Anakin nodded solemnly. “Yes,” he said, shortly. “She…” He fell into silence.  
“Come on, Father,” Luke said, half scolding, half encouraging Anakin. “What did I tell you?”  
“You will not judge me,” Anakin sighed. “Yes, you are right. I will tell you.”  
Luke waited patiently. But just when he thought he would have to do a bit more encouraging, the wind whispered again.   
Anakin laughed, guffawed; he bent over, hands on his knees. “Oh, my dear. Oh, Padmé…”  
“What did she tell you?” Luke asked eagerly.  
“She says that the trillions of people in the galaxy put together would never have enough stubbornness to match ours,” Anakin said, smiling broadly. At that moment, though he had never known her, Luke couldn’t help but love his mother for being the one person who could make his father so happy. “Yes, my love, you’re right. I will tell him.”  
Luke sat down on the rock outside his burned home, which had somehow still remained there even after all the rest had withered away. Anakin’s ghostly form sat down beside him. Luke was filled with a desire to touch his father, to lean into him, or clasp his hand, or _something..._ but he knew it would be fruitless.   
“Your mother is the most beautiful person who has ever existed,” Anakin began, a dreamy look sliding onto his face. “Not just in appearance, but in spirit. She had such a large heart. She wasn’t like most politicians; instead of fighting for something because of what it would give her, she fought for people, for nations, for planets. She only wanted to help others…just like you. She is the reason I was drawn to you, when I first met you; even on Bespin when we fought, you had that same determined expression, the clenching in your voice, that she had whenever she fought for something, anything. That is why I abhorred myself for _mutilating_ you, for _ruining_ you emotionally, because you were so much like her, because to do such a thing to you was to do it to–”  
“Father.” Luke, forgetting again that his father wasn’t physically present, reached out to touch him, and was painfully reminded of the truth. “We’re not talking about that. It’s in the past, and I’ve long since forgiven you for it.” He smiled. “Continue.”  
Anakin nodded slowly. “I met her when she was only fourteen, a young queen; young, but never inexperienced, never weak. She was leading her country at the age of fourteen, inspiring worlds to support her in her cause; and I met her in…Sith!”  
“Watch the language,” Luke said jokingly.   
“Now _you_ are teasing _me."_ Anakin cleared his throat. “I never told you. Did you know that I was a slave? Here, on Tatooine?”  
“I…” Luke ran a hand through his hair. “Yes, I did. My neighbors growing up apparently remembered an Anakin Skywalker, and the children…well, they teased me about it, mocked me for being the son of a slave and an unknown woman.”  
“Oh, son.” This time it was Anakin who reached out a hand; but he seemed to realize what he was doing and pulled it back. “You never…you _never_ deserved that! To think that I was at fault for that.”  
“No, you weren’t. The Hutts were.” Luke smiled, making it clear to his father that he would allow no discussion about Anakin’s deeds as Darth Vader. “But I was never affected by that. I knew I was freeborn, and I was determined to rise even farther above my station. I dreamed of a life far away, and I knew that if I got that life, I wouldn’t be defined by my heritage.”  
“You are forgiving, Luke…far more than I ever was. I would get in fights with other children who accused me of having no father, harboring dark thoughts of becoming a great person, a legend, and returning to wreak hell for them.” Anakin chuckled. “Despite all that, you are the one who did that, in the end; didn’t you return to Jabba’s palace, to kill him and free your friend? When I heard of it, I could not have been prouder.”  
Luke raised his eyebrows; he had never been able to arch just one at a time. “Father, you’re stalling.”  
“Yes, I am.” Anakin sighed. “Well. I met Padmé in the workshop of my master, Watto…and even at the age of nine, I was taken by her. She was so soft and beautiful, like an angel; in retrospect, I think I may have even called her one,” he added, with an embarrassed smile. “You must understand, Luke, that this was not real love; only a boy’s idea of it, a…a…there is no word for it.”  
“A crush,” Luke said, unable to keep himself from grinning madly. “You had a crush on her.”  
The wind whispered again, and Anakin rolled his eyes. “Don’t mock me, Padmé.”  
Luke smiled, even though his view of his parents’ interactions was completely one-sided.   
“Yes, I suppose I had a _crush_ on her, you insolent boy.” Anakin batted teasingly at Luke; laughing, Luke dodged him. “This lasted ten years; despite all that time of never seeing her, hardly hearing of her, I still remembered her. Sometimes, when I had nightmares of seeing my mother dead, I would think of her; and then my nightmares became simple dreams. But when I saw her next, at the age of nineteen, I realized that my feelings for her had become love.”  
Luke smiled, enjoying the thought of his father young and in love.   
“But…I believe I have said to you before that I cannot express myself, that words rarely come easily to me. And so it was with Padmé. I wanted to tell her everything I felt, but emotions were not encouraged; I wanted to profess my love, but I was shy…and whenever I spoke, my words came across as either childish and immature, or mildly threatening. Padmé, of course, knew I didn’t mean either; but she still could not get rid of the memory of me, as a child. Then…then everything changed, but it was not for the better. You see, the dreams of my mother–who was still enslaved–dead had not gone away, and I had had enough. I abandoned my mission, which was to protect Padmé, and went to Tatooine…but she went with me. I suppose she was beginning to love me then, since I was now showing signs of taking something seriously, but I did not see it then. I only thought of my mother. She had been freed, by your uncle’s father; that is how you’re related, you know,” he added to Luke.   
Luke nodded, merely absorbing the fact. He would ask questions later.  
“We found the house; this house, that was burned away. I’m sorry for that. I met Owen; he seemed a good man, good but simple, and in those days I, unfortunately, had no time for simple people. But things quickly fell apart, for my mother…my mother had been enslaved by Tuskens.”  
Luke gasped, horror flooding his chest. “Tusken raiders!”  
Anakin nodded solemnly. “Yes. They had captured and enslaved my mother, and when I found her, she was barely conscious…barely alive. She lived only long enough to die in my arms; and this is the first event I am truly ashamed for, Luke. What happened next was terrible and ugly; it was my first step to the dark side.”  
Luke’s head was spinning. His first step…but if Anakin's mother had _died_ …realization dawned on Luke. “You slaughtered them,” he said slowly. “You slaughtered the Tuskens.”  
Anakin nodded solemnly. “I hardly remember it now; I was blinded by rage. It was heartless, cruel of me, a sign of what was to come…for I did not stop with the guards. I did not stop with the men. I killed the female Tuskens, putting their young ones to bed, and the young ones themselves, some barely out of the cradle. I…I killed _children,_ Luke; children! I–I–”  
“Enough,” Luke said, physically restraining himself from reaching out to Anakin again; his heart twisted whenever he saw the pain on his father’s face, yet he could not help him. “About my mother.”  
“Yes. Yes. Your mother. When I returned, I felt awful; I confessed everything. I told her what I had done, and she…she forgave me, like you do now. _That_ is where you are _truly_ like her; you see through my actions, right to my heart. Despite what I had done, that moment was when Padmé fell in love with me; she saw me in pain, she saw what I had gone through, and she loved me, realizing I was more complex than she could ever have dreamed. After that, it all came easily…we went to save Obi-Wan, fell into a trap. She proclaimed her love to me before we were sent out to be killed; I had expected this, having felt her emotions, but it still stunned me to my core. Fortunately, we escaped the situation–I with a prosthetic–but nothing was ever the same, for that was the Battle of Geonosis, the start of the Clone Wars.  
“Yet we were still determined to be together; and shortly after the war’s beginning, we were married on her home planet of Naboo. Many things tried to pull us apart after that; I was given my own group of clones, my padawan Ahsoka, I was pulled away on missions, I nearly died several times…but nothing ever separated me from Padmé, nor she from me. After three years, we were still as deeply in love as ever; but we were becoming reckless. We were tired of keeping our relationship a secret; we wanted to simply be, as husband and wife, without anything between us. Then she announced that she was pregnant. I was anxious at the thought–what would the Senate think of the former queen?–but more than that, I was elated. I realized, at that moment, that I had wanted to be a father for years, and now I finally would be. But that dream would never come true…” Anakin looked away. “At least, not in the ordinary sense.”  
“Go on,” Luke said gently. “I will not judge you.”  
Anakin heaved a sigh. “As happy as I was…it did not last. I soon dreamed of Padmé, as I had dreamed of my mother, dying; dying in childbirth. I dreamed this almost every night; even lying beside her, a position that usually quelled my fears. I took it to Yoda; but he hardly seemed sympathetic. He told me that death is a natural part of life, which is certainly true, but…but I was young and afraid. Such words only separated me from the Jedi, who I had grown to mistrust; and drove me towards Chancellor Palpatine, who you know as the Emperor.”  
Luke clenched his fists, trying to drive away his anger. Even he had never forgiven that man for what he had done to his father.   
“I will not tell you what passed between us; I am still too ashamed of it. You need only know that he convinced me that the Jedi were evil, had mistreated me, and that he, Palpatine, could save Padmé through the dark side. This is why I turned, Luke; not for money, not for power, but for my wife, who I loved.”  
Luke stared at his father for a long, long time, shocked. Stunned, that Anakin had fallen for so sad, so relatable a reason…but also relieved. He had believed all along that his father was human, that he had human desires and fears and needs; and now he was proven right.   
“Maybe we’re more similar than you think,” Luke said quietly. “I almost did the same thing. You threatened Leia, so I…I nearly destroyed you.”   
His voice broke at the memory, and he lowered his head, tears threatening to spill out onto his cheeks. He didn’t think he could bear to have his father call him a good person, after this; not when he still harbored guilt over that moment, how he had lunged at the father he had only wanted to save, trying to _kill_ him…his _own father..._  
“Luke.” Luke looked up, into his father’s eyes, which stared at him with only the utmost love. “We are not focusing on the past.”  
Luke smiled through his tears, wiped a sleeve across his nose. “I should listen to my own advice, shouldn’t I.”  
“Yes, you should.” Anakin closed his eyes for a moment. “Eventually, Palpatine had me so deep in his grasp that I knew he was a Sith Lord, I knew what he was going to do; but I did not stop it. In fact, I helped it along, if only for a moment; I attacked Mace Windu, who was about to kill Palpatine, so that Palpatine could kill Windu…I only thought of Padmé that Palpatine could save her life. He was deformed by then, his face ruined by his own Force Lightning, which had ricocheted off WIndu’s blade; but even then I stayed with him, pledged myself to that decrepit monster, _became_ Darth Vader, because I loved Padmé.  
“But my mind was slowly being poisoned. I became drunk with power; I started to lose sight of Padmé, of my child–well, children–of the peaceful home life I had wanted, and instead dreamed of ruling the galaxy. I did not realize it, but I had started to hate Palpatine even then; I saw through to his weakness, I saw that I could kill him. This sight was the will of the Force, I think, for I had been born for that purpose, to bring balance, and the Force showed me what I had to do…but I went about doing it the wrong way. I killed all the Jedi; I went to the temple, I…I…I killed the younglings! I killed the children at the temple, slaughtered them mercilessly!”  
“It doesn’t matter, Father,” Luke said softly. “You made up for it, by saving me. Remember that, through your entire story. You saved me, so none of this matters. What matters is what you were in the end.”  
The wind rustled again, and Luke knew that his mother agreed with him.   
Anakin nodded many times in rapid succession, took several long, deep breaths…and then he began again. “When that was done, I went to Mustafar, a volcanic planet, and killed all the Separatists. I did not have as much guilt over that; they had wanted Padmé dead, but still they had been defenseless. They had been politicians, misled, misguided, and yet I had killed them. I wanted to turn back then, but…but there was no way back. Not one that I could see. It was then that Padmé arrived, having undoubtedly heard of my deeds. At first, I was elated; I could kill the Emperor, become the Emperor, make Padmé my empress. We would rule the galaxy, together….but of course, she did not want that. She denied me, told me I had gone too far; and then Obi-Wan appeared. I was not so forgiving toward him; I still believed Palpatine’s lies about the Jedi…but some of my feelings came from neglect, abandonment, at their hands. The Jedi were good, Luke, but they were flawed. They had lived too long in absolute power, and had allowed themselves to be tricked at the last moment; as I was.”   
“I understand,” Luke said. “I’ll never make their mistakes, Father. I promise.”  
Anakin seemed to relax at that, and continued on with his tale. “I erupted. I hated Obi-Wan so much at that point; and as I have said, the dark side had poisoned me, twisted my mind. I was deluded. I believed Padmé had willingly betrayed me, and I…I…Luke, son, I–”  
Luke understood that his father would never be able to say the words; and he was filled with grief and pity and sorrow all at once. “Oh, Father. You don’t have to say it. You began choking her, didn’t you?”  
“Yes!” Anakin cried. “My wife, the love of my life, I attacked you. Why? Why did I do it? Even now, I do not understand.”  
The wind breathed, caressed both father and son; and Luke thought he heard one word: _Tricked._  
“Yes,” Anakin said, “yes, Padmé. I was tricked; you are right.” He sighed. “I did not kill her, as I previously believed; and I had felt this, even as I drew my lightsaber against my old friend. I will spare you the details of my duel with Obi-Wan, Luke; but what you must know is that I was burned, within an inch of my life, _after_ having lost my remaining arm and both legs. The Emperor arrived just in time; but it would have been better for the galaxy if he never had. When I awoke, encased in my suit, my first thought was of Padmé. She was the reason I had become this monster; she was the reason I had fallen; and if she was alive, all the pain might be worth it. But…she was not. She was dead, Palpatine said; dead, by my hand. And finally, I lost all hope. I had no child, and I had no wife; and this is why I never came for you, Luke. I did not believe you existed.”  
“I know,” Luke said. “I thought about it, long and hard, after Bespin; and I finally realized that you wouldn’t have known. You had searched for me so ruthlessly, you would have come after me if you’d known I was alive.” He hesitated. “But…it’s nice to hear it.”  
“I thought so,” Anakin said, rising from the rock; Luke rose with him. “Now you know, Luke; now you know the truth of your mother. But do you still forgive me? Do you still refuse to judge me?”  
“I do,” Luke said firmly, “because you’ve already been judged. The Force judged you innocent, not guilty, of everything you did…because you’re here now, as a ghost in the Force. If the Force had judged you unworthy, I would never see you again.”  
Anakin bowed his head. “You have your mother’s spirit, son.” He reached out to Luke’s face, as if to stroke his cheek; and this time, he did not stop himself. His hand passed through Luke’s form of flesh and bone, but Luke still felt it, like a comforting breath of wind, _almost_ real, _almost_ physical.   
There was another whisper of the wind. Luke turned to the place where he felt the third presence was, just over his left shoulder.   
“Thank you, Mother,” he said simply.   
The wind whispered back, and this time, Luke thought he heard it–heard _her-_ say his name.   
There was a brilliant glow behind them; Luke turned to see that the twin suns were setting. He gave a laugh. He was standing in the exact same spot as he had been eight years ago, when he was just a boy dreaming of adventure.   
“Do you see it, Father?” he asked quietly.   
“I see it,” Anakin said, in a voice softer than the clouds.   
Luke nodded his head to the left. The wind whispered again.   
“And she sees it, too, son,” Anakin said.   
Luke smiled. The three of them, Jedi, Force ghost, and dead queen, remained that way for a long time, simply staring out at the twin suns of Tatooine.   
  
  


 


End file.
